


01100011 01101100 01101001 01101110 01110100

by Rionaa



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Character Study, Clint Barton is highly underrated, Mathematics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-09 00:16:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7779202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rionaa/pseuds/Rionaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Even the hairs on your head are numbered" ~ Matthew 10:30</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> To anyone who followed me for that one Avengers fic that I posted forever ago: sorry! Have this as a peace offering

Clint saw numbers everywhere. Everything was numbers. Every leaf on every tree was a set of precise angles. Every blade of grass was its own length from ground to tip. Every bird flew at a certain velocity, wings and body the perfect combination of angles and weight to keep it there. Clint saw numbers everywhere. 

Everyone knew that Tony was the smart one, certified genius billionaire playboy philanthropist. He knew technology like no one else. 

Bruce was almost the same. He knew things about science that even Tony didn't. He knew biology and chemistry, he was the world's leading expert on enhancing serums like Steve's.

And Steve himself was certainly far from stupid. His unusually high intelligence had been one of the deciding factors for Erskine when choosing Steve for the super soldier serum, and what he had before had been multiplied by that same serum. And Steve put that intelligence to good use. He could strategize better than anyone else on the team, planning battle maneuvers and leading the team to success with an almost 100% success rate.

And then there was Natasha. You don't get to be one of the worlds most talented spies and feared assassins without more than your fair share of intelligence. Nat could think her way out of any situation. She spoke more languages than anyone else on the planet, as fluently as a native speaker. She could outwit any captor or enemy, twisting any situation to suit her whilst making them believe that they were the one in control. 

But Clint was nothing special. At least, that's the way the world saw it. Clint was that other one, the one with the peculiar, outdated weapon, the one who always had a witty one liner, but was basically just a walking joke himself. 

What they didn't know was that Clint ran a hundred and one calculations a second. What they didn't know was that Clint could solve any puzzle quicker than anyone. Quicker than Tony. Every time he fired an arrow, he knew the exact wind speed, the angle and distance at which his target was positioned, the effect that gravity would have, even at a high altitude. All of these factors and more, whirring through his head, every time he drew back the string to the correct tension, the right angle, so that the arrow would hit his target to a maximum of 0.43 of a centimetre's variation

No one knew. No one except Nat, of course. When Tony asked how long he had to practise to get such a high accuracy, Clint had replied that he had a lot of time in the circus. But that's not how he learned. He's always been able to shoot. The numbers show him how.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/unexpected-readings-of-poetry)


End file.
